


Kitetsu Hill

by Aanaya, WhimsicalRealist



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Horror, Angst, Gen, Horror, M/M, Multi, Nakamaship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:11:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1697723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aanaya/pseuds/Aanaya, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalRealist/pseuds/WhimsicalRealist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandai Kitetsu. The "problem child".</p>
<p>It has waited patiently, waited for a master strong enough to bring it home.</p>
<p>Legend claims that only those who wield it suffer disaster, but as it turns out, no one is safe from its curse.</p>
<p>Will the crew escape with their lives, or become fodder for its dark rebirth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by Silent Hill. This story is the conceptual child of my dear friend Aanaya, whom has entrusted me with fleshing it out. We work together in steering the course of the story, coming up with situations, settings, dialogue, and I consult with her constantly to be sure I'm not mucking up her wonderful idea.
> 
> That said, be prepared for: graphic violence, descriptions of gore and general disturbing themes. I will adjust my tags accordingly as the story unfolds.

_**Brothers three born of violent thought** _  
_**Through flame and blood and blackness wrought.** _  
_**Madness leeched into their steel,** _  
_**A hunger to rend and split and peel.** _  
_**If drawn into the light of day,** _  
_**Only blood allows them be sent away.** _  
_**They care not where the tribute falls,** _  
_**But death awaits whom ignores their calls.** _

_**Upon the land they were forged,** _  
_**Bring not a one freshly gorged.** _  
_**Should home they reach recent fed,** _  
_**The earth shall churn with the restless dead.** _  
_**Demons shall wake and evils shall rise,** _  
_**And all whom trespass shall know demise.** _  
_**The altar waits to raise its child:** _  
_**A beast of anguish, of strength defiled.** _

 

 

Dark clouds had begun to gather on the horizon as the island came into view, the starry skies soon blotted out by the sickly grey that warned of lightning. Waves roiled choppily against the hull of the Thousand Sunny as they made a course for shelter, hoping to beat the storm.

“What island is this?” Robin asked, peering down over their navigator’s shoulder at a map spread across the table.

“Muramasa. It was once home to rich deposits of jewel steel, but was abandoned when they ran out,” Nami explained somberly, tapping the island bearing a red X across it. “Certainly not my fist pick, but those thunderclouds would reach us before we could get near the next inhabited island. I‘ve told Franky to anchor us in the natural cove on the western side, it should protect us from the worst of it.”

The archaeologist seemed to ponder the name of the island for a moment, casting a glance out the porthole as a small frown turned her lips downward. Muramasa. It held no meaning to her, certainly, yet somehow it still made her mind itch with vague foreboding. Something was off about it, but she could not place a finger on  _what_ , nor why she should believe it to be so. Had she read about it before somewhere, having forgotten the name but holding onto fragments concerning its history? Leaving Nami to scrutinize the map, Robin would retreat to her quarters and see if she couldn’t find something about this Muramasa in her sizable library.

 

Out on the main deck, Sanji let the growing winds whip his hair about his face while he watched the storm brewing behind the island with a deepening scowl. Teeth anxiously ground at the butt of a cigarette as he looked up toward the crow’s nest, knowing in his gut that something was amiss.

It had nothing to do with the weather, that much he knew for sure.

Ever since they sailed from an island several days ago after stopping for supplies, a certain swordsman had been acting shittier than usual. The further they sailed on, the worse he had gotten: he had been unreasonably irritable, excessively angry, and had stopped joining the crew for meals. When the island had first showed up on the horizon, he had spotted Zoro retreating up to the crow’s nest and had been up there for several hours now. The approaching storm seemed like the icing on this particularly unpleasant cake, driving them toward the place he was convinced had something to do with the swordsman’s behavior.

Grumbling, he flicked the spent cigarette overboard--lest he deal with Franky chewing him out for damaging the deck by snuffing it under his shoe--and headed for the mast holding the crow’s nest. Like it or not, someone had to check on the idiot and get him to come down, the nest not particularly safe in this weather. Carefully, he ascended the rungs leading up the mast to the hatch, hoping that he wouldn’t go through the hassle only to find it locked.

It wasn’t.

 

Pushing it upward into the room, the cook shivered as cold, stale air rushed down to meet him. There was a smell to it that spoke of dirt basements, dusty crypts, and other places best left forgotten. Eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom, soon finding that it wasn’t just the air that had gone wrong.

Moonlight filtering in through the portholes was too dim, as if it were passing through tinted glass. Everything seemed duller, aged far beyond their true age, rusting and cracking while still in their prime. And the wood. From what Sanji could tell in the bad lighting, it looked…redder. But that was not his concern: the fact that the room looked like it had been put through a blender,  _was_. Floorboards were shattered, torn up, and gouged deeply. Walls showed terrifyingly long claw-marks that cut through the wallpaper into the sturdy wood beneath.

Briefly he wondered if a wild beast hadn’t managed to get into the crow’s nest somehow, but the thought passed as quickly as it had come when his gaze fell on a glint of white amongst the red and grey. He didn’t know a whole lot concerning Wadō Ichimonji, but it was enough to realize that something so important to the swordsman should  _not_  be--would  _not_  be, under normal circumstances--tossed aside into the jumbled pile of weights. Looking to the other side of the room, he noticed that Shūsui had also been unceremoniously discarded in a pile of debris.

 

Sweat began to bead on the cook’s forehead and he suppressed a shudder, growing increasingly apprehensive in the room. Everything in him was telling him to run, the hairs on the back of his neck standing and his skin broken out in gooseflesh. Wrong. Something was terribly, horribly, utterly  _wrong_. It wasn’t until he spotted a figure standing in the darkness that seemed to pool at the center of the room that he knew how wrong it truly was.

Head lowered and his back to the cook, Zoro stood motionless with a red scabbard clutched in his right hand, Sandai Kitetsu held in the left with the tip resting against the floor. Crimson, tattoo-like tendrils snaked up from the red fingers wrapped around the sword’s hilt to disappear beneath the sleeve of his coat and reappear where they wrapped around the swordsman’s neck. In the gloom, the markings seemed to pulse with a slight glow, in time with a slow but steady heartbeat.

When Sanji shifted--he himself unsure if it was to approach or retreat--Zoro lifted his head and slowly turned around to look at him. Zoro’s normal ochre iris had been stained a deep red, contrasted against blackened sclera…and even in the weak lighting, the cook could see that the pupils gave off a red eyeshine. Just by standing there like that, Sanji found himself rooted in place, looking at his nakama with wide eyes:  _was this even Zoro?_  As if sensing the thought, the swordsman gave a chuckle with two voices overlapping, one being his own, the other was one the cook did not recognize.

“Hello, Sanji,” he spoke at last.

 

Thoughts raced nearly as fast as his heart at this point, keeping his eyes trained on the swordsman for fear of letting him out of his sight for even an instant. Left uncertain of how to proceed, he listened closely and could hear a voice chattering below on the main deck.

“LUFFY!” he barked urgently when he realized it was his captain passing by. “GET UP HERE! N--!”

Making the mistake of blinking, Sanji was thrown to the floor with a brutality he was not even remotely accustomed to from the swordsman, air knocked from his lungs as his back struck the floor. Zoro--but  _not_  Zoro--leered down at him with a boot pressed firmly into his chest to pin him down and he tossed the scabbard away so rough fingers could grab hold of his chin.

“Doesn’t it just burn you up inside,” the swordsman practically purred, hand forcing Sanji’s head backward and pressed Kitetsu’s sharp edge against his throat. He leaned down to the cook’s ear with a smirk. “Doesn’t it just boil your… _blood_ , to know you were right all along?”

Sanji caught his breath, glancing at Zoro from the corner of his eye with much of the color draining from his face. This wasn’t their swordsman anymore, not really. Sure it was his body and his voice, but something else was pulling the strings… _Kitetsu_.

“You…bastard,” he managed to hiss before inhaling sharply as the blade nicked his throat.

 

  
Thankfully, Luffy burst his way up into the room and drew Kitetsu’s attention away from the cook momentarily. Their captain took one look at the destruction around him before turning to face his nakama on the floor, brows knitting together in confusion as he realized right away that this was no normal conflict between the cook and swordsman.

“Oh look,” Zoro jeered with a grin that showed far too many teeth. “I’ve got the one he cares for more than he knows…and the one whose opinion and life he values far above his own in the same room. Perfect.”

Taking a step forward, Luffy was forced to halt with a flinch as Sanji made a startled, gurgling noise, Zoro having pressed the sword just a bit further into his throat. His eyes went wide as he could see blood spilling from the wound, teeth grinding together. This wasn’t right. Zoro didn’t like Sanji, but he would never do  _this_  to him.

 

“ Ah, no no,  _senchou_ ,” the swordsman warned with a shake of his head. “Stay right where you are, would hate to slip with the sword so close to his throat. But you know how hungry I can be…”

“Zoro, stop it!” Luffy ordered, hands curled into shaking fists at his sides.

“I don’t…think it’s Zoro…anymore,” Sanji struggled to mutter, feeling the boot grind punishingly into his chest for the trouble.

“Now, there’s no need to get so worked up,” Kitetsu sighed, letting go of Sanji’s chin to run a finger across the flat side of the blade, coating it in the cook’s blood. “I just wanted to thank you.”

“Thank us?” the young captain repeated, perplexed.

“That’s right,” he chuckled, cleaning the blood from his finger with his tongue. “You’ve brought me home, senchou. And with your help, I will be free.”

The sword began to hum, its blue flame hamon suddenly flaring bright crimson, the change spreading out along either side of the blade starting from where it touched the wound in Sanji’s neck. Squinting in the growing light that pulsed in time with the swordsman’s markings, the cook felt his insides grow cold as Kitetsu began to laugh.

 

Outside, the winds had picked up into a gale force that threatened to tip the ship over altogether. Rain battered the deck and arcs of lightning lit up the sky just as Franky had finished weighing the anchor. The natural harbor seemed to shield then from the brunt of the storm, but the waves lashed the hull violently, pitching the ship as if it were no more than a child’s toy. The sky grew darker. Darker. Darker, still. The moon was gone. The storm raged, thunder crashing dangerously close, following mere seconds in time with the cracks of wicked, red lightning.

 

Then everything stopped.

 

Nothingness swallowed the crew whole, plunging them into a deep darkness without sound or substance. From this darkness they would soon awaken, but shortly thereafter wish nothing more than to return to it.

“Welcome to Muramasa,” Kitetsu greeted them gleefully.


	2. By His Hand

It was nothing.

That’s what the swordsman had been telling himself for days, ignoring the itch behind his eye and the ants crawling inside his head. Just a mild irritation caused by the freaky weather patterns in the area and nothing more. It would pass.

It was nothing.

That’s what he told himself when the shadows danced in the corners of his vision, feeling them gazing back at him when he wasn’t looking. A trick of the light putting him on edge and nothing more. It would pass.

It was…nothing.

That’s what he had tried to tell himself when the hunger he felt was not for meal his nakama were sharing together, but something else altogether. Fingers ached, sought to clutch and to rip and to break…teeth yearned for soft, living flesh, his mouth dry and demanding. He had to get away from them for a while, that was all. It would pass…wouldn’t it?

Nothing.

 

Sitting in the crow’s nest, Zoro held his head in his hands and growled. Fingers pressed desperately into temples, the swordsman seeking even the slightest relief from the splitting headache that had developed. His heart was throbbing in his chest and in the dark silence he locked himself away into, he could feel the blood flowing through every vein, aware of every twitch and shift of each of his organs all at once. Cold sweat slicked his skin and he felt his nails drawing blood from the skin of his scalp as he pressed his fingers harder and harder. He’d claw his brain out if it could make it go away.

Under the incessant ringing in his ears, he began to hear a voice. It had been quiet at first, the faintest whisper nearly lost to all other internal noises. But soon it grew louder and louder until it was nearly a dull roar. It was familiar…all too familiar. It spoke in words that were not quite words, the meaning expressed more through what he felt upon hearing them.

This had to stop.

 

Rising to his feet, he had drawn his swords without a thought, their weight natural and calming in a way. But then his hand began to shake violently. Shūsui felt too heavy, and Zoro had to struggle to maintain his grip on the sword before it fell from his grasp altogether. Glancing to his other hand, he realized it was Kitetsu. A ball of discomfort began to form in the pit of his stomach as he could feel the blade thrum like a beating heart, reaching for Wadō with his free hand…only to watch the sword torn from hip by an unseen force and thrown across the room.

Pressure began to crush him, as if he were deep under water. Breathing was an agonizing labor, rasping harshly as if someone were squeezing his throat. It brought Zoro to his knees, free hand bracing himself as the other continued to hold Kitetsu before him, forcing him to watch his reflection in the sword’s polished steel.

That’s when he saw it.

Behind him, the shadows knit together and rose up into a figure, animal-like crimson eyes glinting in the darkness as it unfurled billowing protrusions that could have been arms or wings…it defied definition. Its very presence paralyzed Zoro, finding himself unable to so much as twitch a finger as it leaned down over him. Its flowing limbs wrapped around his torso in the twisted mockery of an embrace, whispering the not-words softly into his ear. Zoro began to drift despite the hairs standing on the back of his neck, every instinct screaming at him to get away. It was lulling him, the not-words wearing down his mind and seeping through the cracks made in his defenses by the maddening white noise he had endured.

Darkness took him then, drowning his mind in its depths, pouring into him to lay claim on every fiber of his being. All that remained were the words, their meaning changing from the coaxing used to lull him to a sickening chorus of laughter. He could do nothing but watch helplessly as he felt his body move to another’s command, laying waste to the room around him with the lone katana, eager to rend and undo everything in its wake.

 

It then lay in wait, and Zoro was privy to its intentions. He struggled, lashing out wildly--a prisoner inside himself--seeking a foothold, any sliver of control he could manage to use to free himself from the presence. But it proved stronger than he anticipated, shoving him back wherever he seemed to be making progress, punishing his efforts with a searing pain felt only by his soul. That did not stop him, however, and he railed even more frantically when he heard the hatch to the crow’s nest open, smelling the earthy scent of tobacco smoke that seemed to always precede the cook.

 

_‘Get out! Get out! Get out! Get out! GET OUT!’_

Zoro exerted the desperate thought as loudly as he could muster, hoping---praying--that through his will alone he could warn his nakama of the danger he was walking right into. The laughter embracing his mind intensified and he watched himself turn around to face Sanji, hearing the chuckle that was and wasn’t his voice and saw the fearful expression the cook wore openly.

“Hello, Sanji,” the presence greeted, feral and hungry.

 

 _'Get the fuck out of here, shit-cook!’_ Zoro yelled, clawing at the force binding him.

“LUFFY!” he heard Sanji call out urgently. “GET UP HERE! N--!”

 _‘No! Luffy, stay away! Stay away from me, you idiots!’_ Zoro countered almost pleadingly.

 

The swordsman felt his heart give an excited throb as his body leapt forward, a simple blink the only moment of distraction needed to easily overpower the cook. He grimaced with a sharp pang of guilt as they hit the floor hard, the weight of his boot on Sanji’s chest heavy with cruel intent. He felt the stubble of the cook’s chin beneath his calloused fingers, felt his nakama swallow thickly as he looked down through his own eyes with growing panic.

“Doesn’t it just burn you up inside,” the presence asked with Zoro’s voice, letting him feel his hand force Sanji’s head backward before the other pressed Kitetsu’s sharp edge against the cook’s throat. “Doesn’t it just boil your… _blood_ , to know you were right all along?”

 

Zoro felt himself grow ill as Sanji paled and looked up at him with wide, terrified blue eyes filled with a sinking recognition. He knew it wasn’t the swordsman speaking to him now…knew exactly what it was.

“You…bastard,” the cook hissed out before he inhaled sharply, Kitetsu giving a pleased growl as the blade drew blood and Zoro roared in pure outrage.

 _‘Leave him alone! Leave them all alone!’_ he ordered the unheeding presence, watching as his head lifted and addressed his captain as the younger man launched himself up into the room. _‘Damnit, Luffy, get him out of here!’_

 

“Oh look,” he heard himself gloat, Kitetsu pulling his lips up into a grin he didn‘t think they were capable of. “I’ve got the one he cares for more than he knows…and the one whose opinion and life he values far above his own in the same room. Perfect.”

Zoro was constricted by a cutting pain in his heart seeing his captain looking at him with an expression of betrayed confusion, not able to understand what his swordsman was doing or why. He bristled with renewed strength and pushed back furiously at the darkness holding him hostage, determined to free himself and banish that look from Luffy’s face immediately. It was one thing to take over his body, but another altogether to use it against his nakama: he would not stand for it.

Luffy tried to cross over to him and Zoro blurted out in a fearful roar to stop him even as he felt the muscles shifting in his arm, but it was in vain. A startled gurgle left the cook’s lips and the swordsman burned with agonizing fury at the wild laughter ringing in his thoughts, knowing the sword had spilled more blood.

 

“ Ah, no no, _senchou_ ,” Kitetsu warned, shaking Zoro’s head. “Stay right where you are, would hate to slip with the sword so close to his throat. But you know how hungry I can be…”

 _‘I said leave them alone, goddamnit!’_ Zoro bellowed.

“Zoro, stop it!” Luffy ordered, and the swordsman wanted nothing more than to obey.

“I don’t…think it’s Zoro…anymore,” he heard Sanji mutter before Kitetsu ground his boot into the cook’s chest.

“Now, there’s no need to get so worked up,” Kitetsu sighed and Zoro’s fingers let go of Sanji’s chin before one ran across the flat side of the blade, coating the digit in the cook‘s blood. “I just wanted to thank you.”

“Thank us?” Luffy repeated in a perplexed tone.

“That’s right,” Kitetsu chuckled, cleaning the blood from Zoro’s finger with a delighted purr. The swordsman felt sick, tasting the iron on his tongue. “You’ve brought me home, senchou. And with your help, I will be free.”

 

Red light--the same hue as the apparition’s eyes had been--flared from the sword Zoro held against Sanji’s throat and he felt the presence within his body swell with a giddiness he wished he could ignore. The room began to grow dark around them and he saw brief flashes of lightning from the portholes, felt the ship pitching beneath them in the storm-churned waves.

Again the darkness swallowed him up…but this time, it took his nakama into its depths as well. Before all sense left him, he heard the voice again, understanding its words for the first time.

“Welcome to Muramasa.”

 

* * *

 

 

Time passed, but the swordsman had no gauge for how much. It could have been days just as easily as mere minutes. But he woke at last, function of his body returned to him so suddenly he felt his head swim as he sat up abruptly. For some reason he found himself winded, as if he had been running…or had he been fighting? A headache still throbbed between his temples and the white noise of his body was still too loud. Empty hands curled into fists in his lap--where were his swords?--as bits of memory flickered through his mind. There had been a storm coming…red lightning…red…red eyes…red…blood.

Twitching bodily, he was up on his feet with a great urgency, hard gaze demanding answers of his surroundings. Not on the ship anymore, he found himself in what appeared to be the ruins of a long-abandoned village. The buildings surrounding the plaza in which he stood had been badly burned, most fallen in on themselves while others clung together just barely. Cobbled roads were broken apart by weeds and grass growing up through the cracks between stones, leaves and debris strewn across them. Zoro did not recognize the place and had no memory of arriving, but something at the back of his mind told him that he knew exactly where he was and for what purpose.

Nothing felt right here, he determined quickly, skin crawling with his growing unease. The sky was choked with grey clouds that grumbled with thunder every so often, yet did not display any flashes of light. They cast the area in a yellowish hue he recognized, a sign always seeming to precede the worst kinds of storms--sometimes he _did_ pay attention to things Nami told them. Zoro decided to follow the road leading away from the village, hoping that perhaps he could find a harbor in which the Sunny would surely be anchored. Around him, the air felt thick with the storm’s gathering energy, hairs on his arms and neck raised and he shuddered involuntarily.

Beyond the crumbled walls of the village, he found a forest of burned trees, their ravaged branches reaching out like black claws in every direction. There seemed to be stone formations in clusters here and there around their roots…formations he soon recognized for what they truly were: graves. Not just a few, but hundreds, some broken while others were scorched by the blaze that seemed to have devoured the whole island… _was_ it an island? He shook his head, certain he knew it was an island but had no way of knowing _why_ he did. Zoro pressed on with his pace raising to a slight jog, trying his best to ignore the nagging sense of foreboding tugging at his heart.

 

When he reached the end of the road, he found himself not at a harbor but a circular clearing surrounded by the burnt-out trees. He was no archaeologist--that was Robin’s job--but he knew enough to recognize an altar when he saw it. It was a simple, black stone block at least four feet tall and perhaps six feet long, accommodating for someone to lay down on he realized with a deepening frown. Mysterious symbols were carved into the block, a language the swordsman couldn’t even begin to attempt identifying and felt in his gut that it was better if he didn’t.

Surrounding the block, he noticed that there were more graves arranged in a ring. Unlike those in the forest, however, these graves seemed to be freshly dug…and had not been filled in. Zoro’s heart froze over, eye flicking to the nearest grave on his right, focusing on the stone marker.

 

No.

 _Absolutely_ not.

Yet the marker defied him, the name carved upon it clear and unyielding to his will: _**Monkey D. Luffy**_

On legs that felt as if they had turned to stone, Zoro dragged himself closer to the grave, scarcely breathing as he refused what the marker proclaimed. Many things he could accept--including his own demise--but this…this was not one of them.

Peering down over the edge of the grave, he went rigid instantly when his gaze fell upon a familiar figure lying in the dirt below. Eyes closed and hands clasped simply over his chest, Luffy looked like he could just be sleeping…

“Not  _sleeping_ , exactly, not quite,” a voice called to him echoingly, causing Zoro to turn on his heel defensively.

“Who’s there?! Show yourself!” he barked, hand flying to his hip before he remembered the swords were gone.

 

From within the markings on the alter, shadows pooled upward until the figure from his nightmare--how he had hoped it was a nightmare--emerged once more, tilting its head and regarded him with its glowing red eyes.

“I am always near, there is no need to shout,” Kitetsu replied, chuckling.

“You,” Zoro growled, hands balling into fists that ached for leather and steel. “What have you done?”

“I’ve done nothing but what I am meant to,” the specter offered. “And it is by _your_ hand that we are here, if you have forgotten.”

“That wasn’t..!” Zoro balked, paling. “ _You_ were doing that!”

“Perhaps I was, but I would not have been able if not for your care these past few years. It was _your_ hand who chose me from the barrel, after all. _Your_ hand was the one to bring me home, _your_ hand was the one to open the way, and it will be _your_ hand again that frees me.”

“Shut up! I don’t care about your plans, what did you do to Luffy?!” the swordsman interrupted, pointing accusingly toward the grave containing his captain.

“What did I do to Luffy…to Nami, to Usopp, to Sanji,” Kitetsu gleefully rattled off as it gestured to the other graves, each name stabbing an ice pick into Zoro’s chest. “To Chopper, to Robin, to Franky and to Brook? Nothing. Not… _yet_ , anyway. You brought them with you to this place, to the Shrine of the Screaming Dead, and dug for each of them a grave. They lay there now, peaceful, only because they have not woken. But when they do…oh, Zoro, when they wake?”

 

Kitetsu raised its flowing limbs out wide and exploded into delighted laughter, all the while staring at the swordsman.

“How they’ll _scream_.”

“Let them go! They have nothing to do with this…whatever this is!” Zoro ordered furiously, eye wide.

“They have _everything_ to do with this, I’m afraid,” Kitetsu sighed, feigning regret. “You see, Zoro, they put their trust in you. They have given you guardianship over their dreams, their safety, their very  _lives_. They love you...and you, in turn, love them. Love is a strong bond…and a binding burden. _That_ is why they are here, Zoro. To free myself of _my_ bonds, I must first free you…of _yours_.”

 

Cold dread washed over the swordsman as the implications set in, teeth gritting together as he bared them in a vicious snarl. Charging the alter, he was more than ready to reach out and tear the spirit to pieces with his bare hands for even considering laying a finger on his nakama…

That’s when Luffy began to scream.


	3. Burn

Oppressive heat. Air choked with smoke and the smell of sulfur. In the distance, men shouted and swords rang against each other, accompanied by the cracks of gunfire and screams of the wounded. Luffy slowly peeled his eyes open, gazing up at the hazy sky with an expression of growing confusion: where was he? Wracking his thoughts, he remembered being in the crow’s nest after hearing Sanji call for him, remembered seeing Zoro--

“Zoro!” Luffy called out, jumping up to his feet with wide eyes. “Zoro?!”

But there came no reply. Sweat already beginning to bead on his forehead, the captain turned this way and that, looking for any sign of his nakama. What he did find, however, was that he was no longer on Sunny at all, but a man-made island…one he had hoped never to see again.

Marineford.

 

Still in a state of ruin from the War, the base was little more than scorched rubble and half-collapsed buildings, some of which were still on fire. Yet, this wasn’t exactly like Luffy remembered. Everything seemed too red, too rusty, and it had never been this hot. Glancing behind him to the harbor, the young captain’s brows came together: where there should have been water, there was instead bubbling lava. Above him, he realized the sky was filled by black smoke, as if the island had been transplanted to the heart of an active volcano. Well, it _was_ possible--stranger things had happened.

Attention turning back toward the shattered palace in the distance that had served as the Marine Headquarters, Luffy’s frown only deepened. Two years may have passed, but he could swear he still heard the battle playing out…hear weapons clash, voices calling out in cries of triumph or painful wails of despair. Some of those voices were…familiar. Pushing down memories that would threaten to root him in place, the captain began to walk toward the ruins of Marineford Town, eyes peeled for any sign of life.

What he found, however, was death.

 

Loud as the battle sounded in his ears, not a soul stirred. The area just beside the harbor had been relatively empty, but the town itself…Luffy stopped to regard the situation with growing unease. Bodies lay scattered across the streets, propped up against rubble--some crushed beneath it--and hung from blown-out windows. They were all so badly burned, skin cracked and charred and angry red, it was impossible to tell any difference in gender, let alone if they were Marines, pirates, or civilians. In fact, some of the bodies looked dishearteningly small…The smell of charred flesh and sulfur turned Luffy’s stomach sour, having to pinch his nose shut as he pressed on carefully and tried to focus his gaze on the palace ahead and not the poor souls around him.

At least, that was until one grabbed his ankle. Luffy cried out in shock, yanking himself free and backpedaled away from the body that was just beginning to pick itself up. Looking around him, the captain realized that the others, too, were stirring to life…if that’s what you wanted to call it. Empty sockets where eyes had once been turned upon him and despite the missing organs, Luffy could feel their gaze heavy upon him all the same. Jaws pried themselves open--burnt flesh tearing and flaking away in the process--and the maddening melody of battle was joined by the protesting groans of the dead.

 

They moved slowly at first, which allowed Luffy to dodge around them, knocking them away with simple punches only when he had to since the crunch of his fists meeting burnt flesh and hearing bones crack was entirely unpleasant. But the deeper into the town he went, the more bodies there were rising to meet him, growing more impatient and furious with the living intruder. Luffy ducked beneath the swing of a sword, watching with a twitch of disturbance as the arm was flung free from the body’s shoulder with the force of it. Others fumbled to wield clubs, broken pieces of pipe, anything their brittle and charred fingers could manage to pick up. When they grew too thick in the narrower spaces, the captain attempted to disperse them with his Conqueror’s Haki, but with no effect. Gritting his teeth, he would be forced to fight his way through them, wishing he had some way of muffling the sounds throbbing in his ears.

Why he pressed on, he couldn’t be sure, but his instincts told him that he had to get to the plaza in front of the palace. There was something there he needed. Something there he had to do. However, the closer he got, the more undead rose to block his way. Unlike those he encountered in the first half of the town, these undead were stronger, faster, and many of them still licked by flames that vented up from within their bodies, leaking from cracks in their skin.

“Get out of my way!” Luffy roared, sending a group flying with a bazooka strike and charged onward through the gap he made.

 

Moans and echoes of old battle cries deafening him, the young captain plunged on, working himself into a near frenzy of frustration as the throngs of undead continued to throw themselves at him, mindlessly biting and clutching and swinging their improvised weapons at him. Why were they so persistent? It was bad enough that they had died horribly, but what could possibly drive them to return and seek vengeance upon him? Was something--or someone--controlling them? Having no answers to the questions rattling around in his head, Luffy put them aside for the time being and focused instead on reaching his goal.

Barreling through a particularly large cluster of the restless dead, he sprinted out into the plaza, panting for breath and rewarded only with the sulfurous, smoky air that made him cough. On all sides of the battle-scarred space before the palace were mounds of corpses, piled high and set ablaze…and from them came inhuman screams of torment. Wiping ash and sweat from his face, Luffy bristled as his gaze fell upon a scorched wooden scaffold at the very center, the blackened wood still crackling with flames in places.

It was…it was the execution platform.

 

Luffy went very still, barely breathing as his fingers twitched at his sides, eyes quivering as they reluctantly lifted to see the nightmare laid before him. Two years slipped away completely and he stood in the shadow of his regret, his failure, his bottomless sorrow that had only just been dulled by the passing of time, returned anew.

On the platform, head hung and crouched in cuffs between two corpses that had once been Marine executioners, was Ace. Luffy uttered a disquieted whine of shock, of horror, as he looked down along Ace’s body and could clearly see through the gaping, charred pit that had once been his older brother’s chest.

Breath hitching around an anguished sob, Luffy began to scream.

 

* * *

 

 

“Luffy!” Zoro yelled, halting in his tracks and whipping around to face the grave containing his captain.

Forgetting the laughing spirit on the altar altogether, the swordsman bolted, skidding to a stop right at the edge of the hole on his knees, hands gripping the edge as he peered down. Luffy still lay at the bottom, but his eyes were now open, though they seemed glossed over. In the few seconds between his silence and when he started screaming, small cuts and burns had begun to appear along the captain’s limbs, his face smudged with ash and he was sweating profusely as if suffering from a fever.

Zoro called out again, panic increasing when he felt intense heat rising from the hole, despite there being no discernable source. There was no response, only more, terrified screaming. Teeth clenched together, he whipped around and favored Kitetsu with a vicious glare.

 

“What are you doing to him?!” he demanded of the spirit.

“I have done nothing to him,” Kitetsu replied, studying Zoro with its red eyes alight with mischief. “Not… _directly_. I merely separated his soul from his body.”

“What?!” the swordsman roared furiously.

“Body here, soul… _elsewhere_ ,” chuckled the spirit. “The same applies to the others. I could not afford to have them interfere, you see. I know that is what they do best, doing everything in their power to save one of their own.”

“Fix them!” Zoro growled, hands balling into fists as Luffy continued to scream.

“That is beyond my power now, sadly,” Kitetsu apologized gleefully. “Because their souls are now at the mercy of the Fallen. I was able to call upon them, but they will not be controlled, I’m sorry to say.”

“Who the hell are the Fallen?”

“Souls of the dead, dragged from eternal peace into an agonizing hellscape,” the spirit gloated, enjoying itself immensely. “Specifically, they are souls of those precious to your crewmates. Ah! Listen, Zoro! Listen closely…”

“A-A-Aaaaa-A-Aaaa…” Luffy choked out between screams.

 

Zoro slowly turned his head to look back into the hole, going pale as a lump formed in his throat that he could not swallow. No. Anyone but--

“AAAAAAAAAAAAACE!” the young captain shrieked, tears pouring from his wide, fear-filled eyes.

 

“Poor Luffy, poor Strawhats…it is regrettable, but necessary,” Kitetsu continued. “After some…persuasion on my part, the Fallen will devour your nakama’s souls to free themselves from the chains binding them to this place, and in turn, destroy the tethers holding you back from your purpose.”

“You…you brought back their souls…” Zoro rose to his feet, eye wide with deadly outrage. “To _torment_ Luffy, to torment everyone?!”

“Torment and destroy, yes,” the spirit agreed with a nod. “It is the only way. I‘m sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry, you piece of shit!” the swordsman roared, charging the altar again.

“And what exactly do you plan to do, Zoro?” Kitetsu jeered from its perch. “What can you do against me? You don‘t even have your swords.”

“I’ll tear you apart with my bare hands, then!” Zoro growled, leaping up on top of the stone block and reached out to grab the spirit.

 

But to the sound of Kitetsu’s vile laughter, his fingers passed through thin air. The spirit was gone.

Snarling in frustration, his hands raised to cover his ears, trying in vain to block the internal noise of his body and Luffy’s screams, the combination maddening. He had to do something. He had to stop this. He had to save his captain, save his nakama. But how? Closing his eye, he desperately tried to focus, to reign in his thoughts and devise a plan, some sort of solution…anything.

Zoro nearly fell backward off the altar in shock when something wooden clattered down onto the stone in front of him. Hands falling from his ears with a dumbfounded expression, he blinked down at the sudden appearance of Shūsui. Glancing around, he knelt to retrieve the katana, anticipating a trap but met with none. Tying the lone sword back in place on his hip, he felt just a fraction more in control of the situation. He had a sword, that was good. But…what good did it really do him _now_?

 

Hopping down the altar, Zoro drew Shūsui and turned to the forest surrounding the clearing, fingers gripping too tight on the hilt as he swung the heavy blade with a disgruntled growl. Nothing for a moment, then a whole cluster of the gnarled trees fell apart. He had to move, had to do something. Maybe he could find answers back in the village, but it would require him to leave the graves unattended. While he had no desire to leave his nakama, he also couldn’t stand hearing Luffy’s screams anymore. If there was nothing he could do here to rouse his captain and the others, maybe he could be of more use searching the island for a way to stop Kitetsu, to put an end to his plans and break whatever spell he cast over them all. It was at least worth a shot, he told himself, and he would not be away for very long.

Pausing briefly at Luffy’s grave, he frowned deeply. More cuts, more burns, the hole reeked of sulfur and threw off heat like an oven. It only hardened his resolve.

 

“Hang on, Luffy,” he mumbled quietly, sheathing Shūsui. “I’ll get you out of this, I swear it.”

“You really shouldn’t make promises you cannot keep, Zoro,” Kitetsu chuckled from within the swordsman’s thoughts just as Nami began to wail shrilly in her grave beside Luffy’s. “I cannot wait to watch you _fail_.”

 

* * *

 

  
“AAAAAAAAAAAAACE!” Luffy shrieked, shaken from his grief and propelled himself into motion before he could put further thought into it.

Sprinting into the shadow of the scaffold, he flung his arms up to grip the edge of the platform, hauling himself up hastily. Landing on the creaking wood, the young captain fell to his knees before his brother, reaching out to gently shake him by the shoulders.

“Ace! Ace, wake up!” he whined tearfully, desperate. “Don’t go again!”

 

Several moments passed, then Ace shuddered into consciousness with a ragged, wet gasp. Dark eyes came to life and regarded Luffy with a cold detachment that gave him pause, hands raising from his brother’s shoulders.

“Luffy,” Ace muttered, a scowl forming. “Why couldn‘t you have just…left me _alone_?”

“What?” he stared, looking injured by the other’s words.

“I was at peace,” the older boy sighed, having to pause around a hacking cough that brought up blood, spitting it venomously on the space between them. “Finally, in death…I was at peace. And you…you had to mess _that_ up for me, too, didn’t you?”

“I…I didn’t do anything, Ace!” Luffy protested, growing cold inside despite the heat radiating from all around. “I don’t understand what’s going on!”

“I wish I’d never known you,” Ace growled, glaring now. “Life would have been so much simpler…not having to worry about some snot-nosed crybaby all the time. You were always such a disappointment, letting everyone around you down. Couldn’t save Sabo, couldn’t save your crew, couldn’t save me…”

“Ace, don’t…!” the young captain begged, shaking his head rapidly. “Don’t talk like that!”

“Why, is the truth too hard to handle?!” the elder brother laughed bitterly. “You’re weak. Pathetic. And that’s why I’m dead, Luffy. But only _you_ could mess that up even more…because of you, I got dragged here to suffer for your damn mistakes!”

“What are you talking about?!” Luffy cried, growing angry despite his aching heart.

“You let that… _demon_ on your ship, into your crew,” Ace snarled. “He’s cursed, Luffy, and you let him drag us all down with him. You should have just left him to rot on that stake!”

 

Luffy inhaled sharply, rising to his feet to glare down at his brother, hands curling into fists.

“Zoro’s not a demon!” he countered furiously. “He’s--!”

“He will be by the end of things,” Ace interrupted, closing his eyes again. “To free himself, he’ll sacrifice you all. You really are an idiot, defending that piece of shit over your own brother…”

“Ace…” Luffy tried weakly, anger fading back to sorrow. “I tried to save you, I really did. I’m…sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re _sorry_?” chuckled Ace, voice echoing oddly as air around him beginning to ripple as if it were a mirage. “No, I don’t think so…not yet, anyway. But you will be, Luffy. You _will_ be!”

 

Flames erupted from Ace’s back, the intensity forcing Luffy to leap backward off the platform. As he fell, his eyes widened as he watched something begin to take form from the heart of the inferno. Winding its tail through the hole in Ace’s chest like a skeletal parasite, the decaying corpse of a dragon rose from the fire. Its clawed hands lifted up and flexed, parting its charred jaw to let out an unnerving roar of fury and pain. What was left of its flesh burned in the greedy flames, dribbling from blackened bones in chunks of rotting gore.

It fixed its flame-licked eye on Luffy and dragged Ace to his feet.

 

“Ace!” Luffy called in vain, backing away several steps.

“Time to pay for your mistakes, Luffy!” Ace called out, eyes snapping open again as the creature crushed the scaffold beneath him.

 

As one, they charged as soon as Ace‘s feet touched the ground, the dragon’s clawed fingers reaching out to rend and tear Luffy apart with hungry determination. It was all Luffy could do to doge out of the way, only to find Ace right in front of him again. He leapt back again and again, just barely staying out of reach of the claws. Had it been any other opponent, Luffy would have gladly fought back…but this was Ace--even if he wasn’t talking right--and he couldn’t stomach the idea of hurting his brother any further.

Rock debris erupted into his face as a claw came smashing down onto the plaza cobbles, forcing him to throw up both arms defensively. It was all the advantage the dragon needed, whipping its other claw around and with brutal force…tore open Luffy’s chest. He cried out in pain, feeling hot blood spurt from the gash and he staggered backward, tripping over a hunk of rock and falling flat on his ass. Clutching his hand desperately over himself to stem the bleeding, he looked up with wide eyes as the dragon--and Ace--loomed over him.

“Ace, please!” Luffy begged, eyes watering again from the pain and growing fear. “Please stop! I’m sorry!”

“Not sorry enough, little brother!”

Time slowed as the dragon hefted a claw up into the air, seeking this time to crush the young captain beneath it. The hand not holding his wound lifted up in a reflexive gesture to block, turning his head away as he bit his lower lip, tears rolling down his ashen cheeks. It was too much for him.

 

Suddenly, everything went white.

“Senchou.”

 

Luffy blinked, looking back around to find that time had stopped altogether, the claw still raised over his head. The world around them had melted away into the whiteness that Luffy found to be soothing, despite the situation.

“Senchou,” a voice repeated softly in his mind. “You must fight.”

“I…I _can’t_ ,” he rasped, glancing at Ace with a guilty look. “He shouldn’t be here like this…he shouldn’t be hurting because of me. I can’t hurt him more. I won’t.”

“You don’t have to,” the voice--did it sound like a young girl?--urged. “You only have to fight the darkness infecting his soul. That’s what will free him.”

“How? How can I do that?” Luffy gasped, revived by a blossoming feeling of hope.

“With this,” she replied, and though he couldn’t see anything, he felt a hand press something into his palm. “I must go. But you have to hurry, Luffy…the others are in danger, too.”

“Wait!” he called even as the white light began to bleed away into the red of Marineford. “Who are you?!”

“A friend of a friend,” was her faint reply. “Now…fight!”

 

When time snapped back abruptly, Luffy threw his hand back up, fingers curled around whatever it was that the voice had placed in his palm. His fist met with the claw and the dragon gave a gut wrenching roar of pain and yanked away from the attack as if the young captain’s hand had burned it. Blinking, Luffy struggled to his feet and opened his fingers, looking to see what it was that he had been holding. There, shifting slightly toward the direction in which Ace stood, was a tiny scrap of white paper: a vivre card.

“Where did you get that?” Ace demanded, the dragon’s head looming down to peer at the seemingly harmless object with hesitance.

“It’s…I think it’s the vivre card you gave me,” Luffy replied, brows coming together. “So I could find you no matter where you went. It burnt up when you…when you died. But someone gave it back to me.”

“It’s just a useless piece of scrap, what good is that going to do you?!” his brother snorted, the dragon raising up again in a show of confidence.

“No, it’s not,” the young captain disagreed, fingers closing around it once again. “It’s just what I need…”

 

Muscles twinged in his hand and the skin turned black and shiny almost up to his elbow.

"“Buso Koka..."

Throwing his arm back, Luffy braced his feet as Ace and the dragon charged, waiting until the right moment to…

"Gomu Gomu no Snake Shot!” he roared, launching his arm forward.

 

Fist hardened by his Haki, it swerved through the air as if it were a snake, neither Ace or the dragon able to dodge its strike. It drove straight through the beastly thing’s skull and when it gave a shriek of pain at the shattering bone, Luffy opened his hand and left the vivre card in the cavity, snapping his arm back to himself. Writhing and clawing desperately at its own face, the dragon pulled free of Ace’s body and fell to the ground. The more it clawed, the faster it deteriorated, breaking hunks of its own skull apart as a pulse of white light glowed behind its eyes.

 

With the dragon spasming the last of its wretched existence away behind him, Ace stood with a empty expression for a long moment before giving a hard blink and looking around uncertainly. A piece of paper fluttered down and he caught it, giving it a perplexed look--wasn’t this his vivre card?--before glancing up again.

“Where…am I?” he mumbled, then spotted Luffy nearby. “Oi! Luffy?! What are _you_ doing here?!”

 

“Ace?” Luffy looked to his brother, hesitant at first but brightening when he saw that the gaping hole in his chest was gone. “Ace! It’s you this time!”

“What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean, of course it’s me!” Ace snapped, wind knocked out of his lungs with a grunt as his younger brother leapt at him with a fierce hug. “Oi! What the hell are you--no, seriously! What are you doing here, Luffy?!”

“I don’t even know where here is!” Luffy laughed with pure joy, holding to his brother tightly. “I’m just glad you’re okay now!”

 

Taking in their surroundings, Ace frowned. This was clearly Marineford, but…darker, and t smelled like Akainu’s ass-crack, to boot. He was in some offshoot of the spirit world, if he had to guess, but that didn’t explain why Luffy was there with him. Unless…

“You better not have died, you little shit!” he barked, suddenly furious out of concern.

“Nah! I woke up here after Zoro was acting funny and everything went black,” Luffy explained, finally releasing Ace from his grip to stand before him with a wide grin.

“Like that explains anything!” the older brother snapped, but gave a sigh of relief. “You have to go back, though. You don’t belong here…in fact, I’m pretty sure I don’t, either. It‘s giving me the creeps…”

“Do you really have to go again?” Luffy asked quietly, his smile falling.

“Idiot, you know I do,” Ace chuckled, reaching out to ruffle his brother’s hair fondly. “But I’ll be watching.”

 

As before when the white light shone, the edges of the world around them began to fade away into nothingness…so, too, did Ace.

 

“Before I go, though, you better take this,” he added, handing the vivre card back to Luffy. “I have a feeling you might need it again.”

“Thanks Ace. I’m sor--” Luffy began, but his brother raised a hand to silence him, shaking his head.

“You worry too damn much, you know that? We’ll see each other again someday, so you can apologize all you want then.”

Luffy closed his hand around the precious scrap of paper and gave a resolute nod, grinning again.

“Yeah. See ya, Ace.”

“See ya, Luffy.”

 

Everything melted away and the young captain felt as if he were floating, letting his eyes close with a satisfied smile. His brother was okay now, that's all that mattered.

 

* * *

 

 

Luffy woke again, this time laying in a dirt hole. A storm rumbled overhead, likely the one that had driven them toward that island Nami found for shelter. Picking himself up, he wondered if he had just dreamed about Ace until he opened his hand and found the vivre card. Tucking it safely in his pocket, he climbed up out of the grave and squinted. Around him were burned trees looming out of a thick fog--a handful of them seemed to have been cut down--a number of other holes like the one he had been in, and a strange stone block.

 

Before he could consider his surroundings further, a familiar figure caught his eye, paused at the stone with an expression of alarm. Luffy lit up instantly.

“Zoro!” he cheered, throwing his arms up in triumph. “You’re here, too!”

The swordsman seemed out of breath, probably from running, hand clutching the edge of the altar to steady himself. His captain’s smile began to wane when he realized Zoro was staring past him toward the hole he had crawled up from. Turning to follow his gaze, his frown only deepened as he saw a fire had somehow started where he had just been lying. He was about to tell Zoro that it was okay, the fire was just weird, when he shuddered…the swordsman had bolted _through_ him to dive at the hole, ignoring the hungry flames as he clambered in desperately.

 

“Zoro! Get out of there!” he yelled in shock, racing over to grab his nakama.

“He can’t hear you, senchou,” the voice from before offered sadly.

Luffy turned around and found that it _was_ a young girl, indeed, who had spoken. She was barely into her young teens, dark blue hair cut in a short, boyish style and she wore simple training clothes common in dojos. Seated on the altar, a familiar sword rested across her lap as she considered Luffy with her dark brown eyes.

“Who are you?” he asked, glancing back briefly as Zoro emerged from the hole again, dragging something with him. Good, he was okay. “And why do you keep calling me ‘senchou’?”

“Because that’s what he calls you,” she replied with a nod toward the swordsman. “In a way, I’ve been a part of the crew, too, ever since he joined you. My name’s Kuina.”

“Huh. So why can’t Zoro hear me?”

“We’re in a different space than he is right now,” Kuina explained as best as she could. “ Two sides of the same coin. I tried to return his swords to him, but I was only strong enough to get one through. The other got stuck here with me.”

“You’re the one who helped me save Ace.”

“Yes, because I need you to help the rest of your nakama break free.”

 

Luffy considered her words for a moment before his eyes widened.

“The others! Are they stuck like I was?!” he blurted.

“They are, and time is running out,” Kuina agreed. “I don’t have the strength to help them like I did for you, but with your help…”

“Let’s go!” he yelled, turning right around to run into action without even knowing what they were doing yet.

 

Zoro’s roar of anguish stopped him dead in his tracks. Kneeling beside the grave Luffy had occupied, he saw that the something the swordsman had dragged out of the fire…was his own body, badly charred and broken. Lifeless eyes stared up at the sky and Zoro gripped the sides of his red jacket with shaking hands.

“LUFFY!”


	4. Hope Burned Away

Wandering through the village was proving to be a waste of time. Anything that might have been of use--books, documents, maps--would have been burned up by the blaze that must have destroyed most of the island. Kicking through rubble yielded only unidentifiable scraps that hadn’t melted or been eaten away by rust, certainly not worth the effort and especially not after his boot cracked open a skull. Maybe he would find more if he continued toward the center of the island?

Zoro growled low, a hand clutched tightly to Shūsui as a minor tether to reality…if that’s what you could even call it. Above him, the sky still churned with its sickly clouds and grumbling thunder, the storm growing impatient with its gathered moisture. He wished it would get on with it already, the air stunk of ozone and the building pressure of unshed rain hung on his already frayed nerves. The noise of his own body was throbbing ever-present in his damn ears and it was driving him insane. It did, at least, help to drown out the screaming from the clearing in the distance…the last time he accidentally dialed in on it, Usopp and the cook had joined in.

Somewhere below the sound of his heart and lungs he could still make out vague whispering and perhaps what might have been a ticking clock…though that was more than likely his mind playing tricks, reminding him that time was something of an issue.

 

“Tick tock tick tock, the sand flows ever faster,” Kitetsu interrupted, causing the swordsman to flinch and cast his gaze over his shoulder at the spirit.

“Shut up.”

“Soul by soul by soul, the sword undoes its master,” it gleefully continued its morbid rhyme.

“I said ‘shut up’!” Zoro roared, drawing his lone sword in a fluid motion.

“The end the end, no matter if he ran…by flame by flame, gone is his captain.”

 

Sword lowering toward the ground, the swordsman froze where he stood. He listened. He listened hard. A coldness he had not felt in a long time--not since he had heard the news about _her_ \--crept into his chest, its grip tight on his heart. Zoro had sworn nothing could have been worse, nothing could have been more unbearable than listening to his nakama screaming, himself helpless to do anything for them. He was wrong. With Kitetsu’s laughter echoing in his ears, Zoro charged back down the road to the clearing as he realized with alarm that one voice had suddenly gone silent from the chorus of torment.

Luffy’s.

Skidding to a stop in the clearing--the Shrine of the Screaming Dead, as Kitetsu called it--and gripped the side of the altar to steady himself as his lungs screamed at their apparent abuse, far more winded than he should have been. The air was just too thick, that’s all, he reasoned briefly before all thought slipped away.

 

The grave was on fire. Luffy’s grave was on- _fucking_ -fire. Eye going wide, he was in motion again almost instantly, charging the grave headlong and the swordsman ignored the fire--- _the smoke the sulfur the smell of burning hair and skin and_ \--to climb down into the pit of hell that had swallowed up his captain.

Wincing as the wicked flames bit at him, he reached down and gathered Luffy protectively against his chest, turning to drag himself back up. Too still. Too quiet. Too late. Zoro snarled and ignored his thoughts, focusing only on escaping the small inferno as quickly as possible. With one arm occupied holding Luffy-- _why wasn’t he moving, why was he so goddamn still?_ \--he used the free hand to claw at the rim of the grave, having to kick his feet into the hard dirt wall to give himself holds to climb up on. After struggling for what felt like an eternity, he pulled himself out, dragging the utterly motionless young captain with him to safety.

 

Zoro lay on his back beside Luffy, watching the sky as he breathed raspily. His mouth tasted of the smoke and sulfur-- _it was only smoke, just normal everyday smoke, only smoke and nothing more_ \--and he did not want to look. Could not look. Would not look.

But he did anyway.

Luffy was there in the dirt, smaller than he should have seemed, curled up on himself where Zoro had left him. His arms and legs and face-- _please no please no oh god please_ \--were charred as black as the trees surrounding the clearing, cracked in places and an ugly red in others where the flames had not quite finished feeding greedily on what was not theirs to claim. Clothes were in much the same condition of being devoured and Zoro’s breath hitched when he saw his captain’s precious hat was nearly gone altogether, crumpled beneath Luffy’s head. Staring, he waited, waited for any sign of life, any sign of movement at all from his captain god please Luffy, just fucking _breathe_ at least.

 

Zoro sat up and reached out, hand hovering reluctantly for a moment before settling on Luffy’s shoulder-- _it felt like bark beneath the remains of the jacket, like burned wood hard and brittle and flaky_ \--and gave him a slight shake. Nothing. Another shake. Still nothing. A harder shake, then another, then he was looming over his captain and shaking him by both shoulders almost violently. Wake up, you asshole. Wake up already! This was _not_ how things were going to go, not on his watch, so just knock it off and _wake up_!

Darkness tugged at the corner of his eye and he shifted his grip to Luffy’s jacket instead of his shoulders-- _they were so goddamn rough and he had heard the skin crunching under his desperate fingers_ \--and he sucked in a breath. Zoro released it in a primal howl of pure anguish, hoping his voice-- _his will, his only wish please oh god don’t do this to me!_ \--could rouse his captain when his hands alone had failed.

“ **LUFFY!** ”

 

But Luffy did not wake. The was not even a flicker of his once brilliant flame left in those dark, empty eyes that stared out into a nothingness threatening quickly to drown the swordsman.

 

Rising suddenly, Zoro grit his teeth painfully tight, his ears ringing with the throb of his own body, the screaming, the wind was howling as the storm grew stronger and he could not take it anymore. Steel sang from its sheath as rain finally burst down from the clouds and Shūsui bit a wild, uneven and jagged gouge into the ground beside the altar. The swordsman panted, tense and trembling in the torrential downpour, white-knuckling the katana’s hilt as madness-- _this is not fucking happening it’s not it just isn’t_ \--tugged at his mind. The voices…the whispering…among the nameless, one became clearer, became familiar. The words still held no true meaning, always just beyond the scope of comprehension, but it was unmistakable. Luffy had joined them. Zoro paced to the rend in the ground, then back to where the young man lay still, then to the altar, then back to his fallen captain once more.

As quickly as he had risen to his feet, the swordsman dropped down again to sit, turned toward Luffy but with a distant, unseeing gaze. Fingers dug into the muddy ground before him and he remained that way for several minutes before he stirred, seeming to return to himself abruptly when lightning flashed above him. Glancing down at his captain, he recoiled as if he had been struck and he swallowed thickly, thunder rumbling through his chest. Finally, he gave a nod, jaw clenched tight. Yeah. Okay, this was a thing. It wasn’t going to _stop_ being a thing. His fingers pulled free of the holes they had dug and then he was on his knees, pressing his forehead into the mud--grinding it in with a wretched expression of agonized determination--between his hands.

 

“I’m sorry, Luffy,” he whispered brokenly. “I did this…and I’m sorry. But I’ll get them out. I _will_. I wasn’t quick enough…wasn’t strong enough, good enough, but I’ll get them out. I promise.”

There he remained for some time, pressing his head harder and harder as water pounded against his back, desperate to push away the noise inside himself and the heavy silence of his captain before him even for just a moment, just _one_ goddamn moment of peace from the pain systematically clawing his soul apart.

 

Another part of him died inside as Chopper raised his voice into a despairing wail.


End file.
